


Follow Every Rainbow ('Til You Find Your Dream)

by writworm42



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: ArtificalQueens Musical Theatre Challenge, Catholicism, F/F, Religion, Slow Burn, Sound of Music AU, War, historical setting, idk what else to say except there'll be a lot of interospection and Soft Hours
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: Sound of Music AU for the AQ Musical Theatre Challenge.TW for religion (catholicism specifically), war, and later on grief as well.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S FINALLY HAPPENED, IT'S FINALLY HERE
> 
> This musical means so much to me, I love it so much. I really wanted to pay tribute to it, and I really hope I'm doing it justice as well! I hope you guys enjoy it too.
> 
> Also, you may notice a few things are different. I have chosen not to explore faith/queerness too much in this fic bc I could write a whole fic just about that. I also have changed the setting; it is no longer set in Austria, nor in WWII, bc I didn't want to write Nazis into the story. So the war is a generic one and the country is just a non-descript one. Sorry @ all purists out there.
> 
> Thank you Holtzmanns for being fucking amazing and beta-ing and encouraging me, you're seriously the best and I love you <3

Vanessa hadn’t grown up with the war, not necessarily. She’d grown up with it around her, but never with her own home involved. It was carried in the crackle of the radio, shouted during family dinners. Exposed and documented in the pictures and print of the daily newspaper. But it stayed far away, a concept instead of a reality—until suddenly, it wasn’t.

The talk on the radio was becoming more serious. Family dinners suddenly became quiet. There were fewer wreckages and more pictures of government officials in the papers. Movies became focused on military glory, on the strength of men and triumph in conflict. There was no doubt about it--something was on the horizon, something big. 

But women weren’t meant for war. Women weren’t meant for politics. Women weren’t meant for rebellion or labour. Weren’t meant for jumping in to stop a crisis before it started. So Vanessa stayed out of it.

Until she didn’t.

It was often said that the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. Vanessa wasn’t sure where the country was going, but on the day that the war spilled over into her town, the road to church was paved with nuns. Some of them sold rosaries and carnations to raise money for peace advocacy initiatives and the Red Cross. Some sat stony-faced with signs reminding passersby that every soldier was somebody’s child. Still others wailed in the streets, crying out prayers for the dissolution of borders, for countries to disarm and dissolve their militaries.

Those words weren’t meant for women, but they were spoken anyway.

And Vanessa wanted to speak them, too.

She passed by the nuns every day for months, multiple times a day, back and forth from home to church and home again. Sometimes she prayed the rosary; other times she joined a prayer intentions group; most of the time, she listened to the daily Mass and vespers, mouthing along with the priest’s words like she knew every blessing by heart. No matter what, the image of the nuns stuck in her mind, and soon, prayers for the nuns morphed into prayers to be one. 

Vanessa had never been the type to dwell on decisions. For her, everything was simple; want or don’t want. Support or be against.

Do, or don’t. 

She was walking home from Eucharistic adoration when she took her chance. 

“Sign our petition for armistice to the government, my child?” The large, kind-looking woman smiled as she walked up, extending her clipboard and pen.

“Thank you, reverend Mother.” Vanessa smiled as she took the pen. “Now, if you have a minute, can I talk to you real quick?”

  


Vanessa started her aspirancy the day after she took Mother Nina aside. As Nina had explained it, aspirancy was a period of prayer, introspection, and counselling, requiring no less than three hours a day with the sisters, including an hour of talking things out with Nina herself. It was interesting--growing up, Vanessa had experienced nuns as surly, overly-disciplined, punitive in their desire for asceticism and obedience from everyone around them. Nina, on the other hand, was warm and inviting, someone who Vanessa found incredibly easy to talk to. So she did, her daily sessions flying by easily and almost as if they were too short.

_ You need to quiet down. You need to be disciplined. You need to watch yourself and your mouth. _ Vanessa had heard it over and over; but Nina never told her those things. Instead, it was almost as if she was even more appreciative of Vanessa for all of the things that the other nuns thought were weaknesses; loudness became spirit, stubbornness became conviction, rashness became childlike whimsy. And Nina never used the words _ eliminate _ or _ discourage _ either, words that Vanessa had grown used to hearing and used to hating; instead, Nina promised to _ refine _ and _ shape _ Vanessa, to _ productively harness her gifts. _And Vanessa tried, she really did. She went with the sisters to morning prayers and cried with them in the streets. She did community service with them and volunteered in their kitchen to make their meals. By the six month mark, Vanessa was more than ready to say yes to postulancy, to commit herself wholeheartedly to the convent.

Unfortunately, as supportive as Nina was, she could also be stern, and so she held Vanessa off.

“It’s not just about what you want,” Nina would warn, “It’s about what God wants, too.” So Vanessa prayed, prayed without ceasing, prayed over every thought that came to her mind or feeling that came in her heart. And then the prayers melted away--meditations became recitations, hollow words spread above the swelling lightness in Vanessa’s chest. She got through fewer and fewer passages of the Bible every day, because she would zone out and get lost picturing the scenes of the very first lines to hit her eyes. And every prayer, every act of Grace, became less and less somber, until finally, Vanessa felt God the most when she was playing with the neighbourhood kids, smiling back at them over games of house and babbling conversations.

“Are there other aspirants working with you and the sisters right now, reverend Mother?” Vanessa asked during a session, when a pause in the conversation filled the room for the first time since Vanessa came to know the convent. 

Nina smiled. “Why do you ask, Vanessa?”

“Because I’d like to meet them. I wanna get to know them, get to be friends with ‘em.” 

It wasn’t something out of character for Vanessa to say--it wasn’t something even remotely new to her to want. In fact, it was something she’d wanted to ask since the very first day of her aspirancy, but had thought might make her seem immature, like a schoolgirl who just wanted to gossip instead of seriously considering her faith. 

Nina paused for a moment, her smile unwavering, before nodding, her eyes gleaming with pride. 

“Yes, I think you’re ready. In fact, I think I could do you one better--how would you like to enter postulancy with us?”


	2. Dixit Dominus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: The war arrives in Vanessa's country and, inspired by the activism of the nuns, Vanessa decides to join a convent
> 
> THIS CHAPTER: Vanessa has a chance encounter out on the convent grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this, folks!! Hopefully will be able to bring chapter 3 together a bit more quickly, but I will be putting out the last chapter of A Place Where We Can Feel Good and two more quick one-shots first.
> 
> There is heavy religious content in this chapter; please take care of yourselves!
> 
> Thank you thank you to Holtzmanns for beta-ing <3

In Vanessa’s mind, there was a lot to love about the convent. There were the high ceilings, first of all, concrete arches and buttresses stretching high above her head and allowing her footsteps to echo around the hallways, giving each step impact and making her feel like she’s never alone. Then there were the statues all about the grounds, alabaster Virgin Mothers and copper saints of various patronages stretching out their arms to embrace all who stopped to pray there. There were the confessional booths, deep mahogany wood and heavy velvet curtains that Vanessa had come to see not as places of punishment but of healing, of advice and catharsis from which she could emerge feeling light, like her heart had been cleaned and a weight lifted from her soul. 

And of course, there was the chapel—what kind of convent would it be _ without _a chapel, all white and blue and painted with angels and the Lord himself looking down from the Cross, blood and tears gilded in gold? It was enough to make Vanessa feel entirely small and folded up, yet cosmically big and spread out all in one praying breath, even before she looked up at the tabernacle or listened for the hymns sung out from the chapel organ. 

Even after all that, though, there was one part of the convent that would forever stick out in Vanessa’s mind, forever remain her favourite place: the winding roads and trails that backed onto the convent, full of gardens and orchards and forests, cut through by babbling brooks waiting to be sat beside. And sit beside them she did. 

To Vanessa, even the chapel itself paled in comparison to the convent grounds in terms of the spirituality they inspired in her. There was nothing like walking through the orchard and soaking in everything around herself, watching God’s creation at work even without her. It made her feel humble to know that even if she were inside, life was moving on. Apple blossoms would still transform into fruit, eggs would still crack and give way to naked, chirping chicks. And yet when walking through the grounds, she got to witness it all at work--every blade of grass, every ladybug flying through the air and landing on her dress. It made her aware of every moment, of how _ lucky _she was to exist in it. 

It was no wonder, then, that Vanessa’s absolutely favourite place to do morning prayers was out on the grounds. She breathed in Hail Maries with the fresh smell of grass and breathed out Glory Bes on cool sunrise air as laypeople from the community, who were allowed on the grounds as long as they were respectful to it, wandered by and smiled over at her. 

Mother Nina, of course, allowed it, on the condition that Vanessa was always in for morning chapel--so Vanessa made sure to try her best. And even when she failed, she would have plenty to report back to everyone at the breakfast table, every thought and realization. Sure, some of the other, older nuns thought it was vanity, but really, Vanessa just couldn’t stand _ not _ to share; it was too exciting. And so she walked outside, reflecting and thinking and praying, her heart buoyed by the sound of rustling leaves and singing birds.

Of course, it was harder some days than others, especially when she discovered something new.

Vanessa hadn’t meant to find the brook. She hadn’t even meant to explore, not particularly. She had been sitting in the apple orchard, talking to God and watching the clouds, when a flash of movement burst into her peripheral vision.

A frog.

In an apple orchard?

Vanessa couldn’t justify chasing after the frog, however strange a sight it was. No, the disciplined thing to do would be to keep praying despite the distraction.

Then again, it was entirely possible that the frog was a sign from God--what _ else _ would it be doing there? If Vanessa _ didn’t _ follow it, she would be ignoring the Lord, and that wasn’t very spiritual of her at all. It was what Jesus would do, she decided, and so she rocketed up and ran after the frog before she could think twice.

As it turned out, the frog wasn’t that easy a target to catch. Vanessa stretched out her arms again and again, creeping up whenever the frog stopped to catch its breath, but inevitably, a twig would snap under foot, or she’d let out a cocky giggle, or the frog would turn around just in time to see her, and the chase resumed. She was out of breath and sweating into her stockings before the frog finally disappeared behind a wall of bushes, a wall that was all too easily penetrable for Vanessa as she slammed her body through it, falling straight into the clearing ahead.

“Oh.” she looked up to see a clear, small stream running over glistening rocks, light just peeking through the greenery around her to give the water an almost romantic shine, and a little girl, no older than five or six, standing on the other side of the brook, holding onto the frog with both hands and staring at Vanessa with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Hi there.” Vanessa started to get up, but before she could fully heave herself off the ground, the girl turned on her heels and ran away.

Well. Good morning to her too, then.

It was only after Vanessa had regained her footing that she stopped to look around herself, and immediately felt like she had been knocked down all over again. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed that it was beautiful in the brook; rather, she hadn’t realized just _ how _ beautiful it was until that moment, when she was finally able to focus on her surroundings. Everything around her was light and sound, gently-blowing winds rustling the canopy of green leaves that curtained the clearing and filled it with a sweet, almost grassy-smell. Birds chirped and called from every direction, their songs blending into some sort of gentle harmony. The earth was soft under her feet, such that even as she walked towards the stream itself, her footsteps made no noise. And the water, Lord, the water--the stream was quiet, though persistent, iridescent under the beams of sun that shone through the canopy, small, splashing waves breaking as they glided and hit stubborn, glistening rocks. 

It was so much to feel, so much to absorb, that Vanessa almost didn’t notice the wet slap of her dress against her calf.

Almost. She must have landed in mud when she had tripped, because when she looked down at the heavy, chilled sensation that had hit her leg, she noticed a large, brown smear that covered almost the entire left side of her dress’ hem.

Great. Just great.

Still, things could have been worse. She was in a perfect spot to wash her dress, and she was sure that the walk back to the convent would have it dried before Mass. She crouched careful at the side stream and began to splash the skirt of her dress with its cold, clear water, dutifully scrubbing away the mud from the fabric. Maybe it was the surrounding, maybe it was the excitement of chasing the frog, maybe it was simply the desire to keep herself company while she worked away at the stains--for whatever reason, a hymn crept into her head, and she couldn’t help but sing along.

_ She walked in the summer through the heat on the hill _

_ She was bound by the wind, and one with her will _

_ Be brave with the burden, you are blessed to bear _

_ For it’s Christ that you carry, _

_ Everywhere _

_ Everywhere _

_ Every-- _

Chapel bells, loud and unignorable, suddenly rang through the clearing, alarming Vanessa and making her stomach drop.

_ Mother Mary above. _Chapel would be starting right away, and she was still washing her dress. 

Fiddlesticks. 

Without a second thought, Vanessa heaved up, grabbed her skirts, and ran out of the clearing, out of the orchard, onto the trails that led back up to the chapel. She was almost there--she could see the nuns lining up to file into the sanctuary, an aspirant volunteer holding open its heavy mahogany door, sisters in the front, novices in the middle, and postulants in the back, crossing themselves as they passed the threshold. Almost there, and she wouldn’t be late, she could slide in right between her friends A’Keria and Silky, and the novice directress wouldn’t notice--

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, her foot caught on a rock that was lodged suddenly in the dirt path. She could feel the still-wet hem of her dress hitting her leg again as she went down, watching in slow-motion as the ground got closer--

“Are you alright?” Vanessa opened her eyes in surprise when a pair of arms wrapped around her suddenly, stopping her from hitting the ground. A tall blonde woman stood above her, her brow creased in concern, grip strong as she eased Vanessa up to standing again.

“Oh--Um. Yes, I’m fine.” Vanessa blushed deep red, unable to look away from the stranger’s face, as badly as she felt she wanted to. She wasn’t usually shy around the laypeople who walked through the grounds, but there was something about this woman--something about her presence, how she stood completely straight, how she stared directly at Vanessa almost like she was looking through her, even when her face was nothing but concerned, how her hair was pulled back in a tight updo--that made Vanessa feel as though the breath had been knocked from her chest. 

It was when her eyes glided back up to steal another look at the woman when she noticed a little girl, no older than five or six, staring up at her and holding a frog.

So this was Little Miss Rudy-Judy’s mom. 

“Did you come from the brook?” The woman cast a look down to Vanessa’s skirt, making Vanessa shrink into herself a little as she nodded. 

“Oh dear,” the woman shook her head, “Be careful out there, okay? There’s animals in there, I heard one wailing just now.”

Vanessa reddened further--she knew she wasn’t the greatest singer, but she hadn’t realized she was _ that _bad. She was about to open her mouth to clarify, to ask the woman’s name, when the chapel bell rang again, this time an elaborate melody that signalled that Mass was about to start.

Saint Clare’s crackers, she had to run.

  
“Sorry, I gotta go--Thank you!” she called over her shoulder as she turned heel and ran, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she barely heard the _ You’re welcome! _Called out after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!


	3. Morning Hymn & Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Vanessa was praying in the orchard when she started to chase a frog, which led her to a rude little girl and her captivating mother.
> 
> This chapter, Vanessa attends Mass and, well, messes it up, as per usual, while the blonde woman stays in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW y'all it feels like forever since I've updated!! Thanks so much Holtz for encouraging me and for keeping it real w the religious content and helping me know what to explain and what's self-evident, as well as for beta-ing. Ily binch <3
> 
> TW for religion in this chapter--this and chapter 4 will be the last chapter with overtly Catholic main themes/content!

Punctuality had never been Vanessa’s strong suit. Even as a child, Vanessa was always the last to run into the classroom, despite being the first to slide out after the bell rang. Heck, if it hadn’t been for the menacing, looming threat of her mother’s slipper on her behind, she probably would have been late for everything else in life, too. It wasn’t on purpose--she tried her best, she really did. But time always had a way of slipping out from under her, everyone else’s world speeding up whenever hers finally managed to slow down. 

Still, she kept up with efforts, especially since starting her postulancy. It was the trial run every nun went through to make sure they had what it took to become novice nuns, after all, so she knew she had to do well. And Direcress Ra’jah, the sister in charge of wrangling and evaluating all of the postulants in the convent, was as strict as she was surly, and her classes, groups, and service outings waited for no nun, and Vanessa pitied the fool who dared ever lag behind the rest of the group even once. 

“God doesn’t wait for anyone.” Directress Ra’jah would warn Vanessa sternly, and Vanessa supposed it was true, because no matter how much she improved at keeping pace with the world, it always seemed to speed up just a little more out of reach, never meeting her halfway. 

So it should have been no surprise to anyone when she slid into Mass late that morning—it wouldn’t have been the first.

Then again, it was probably the first time that she ran in so quickly that the doors hit the chapel walls as she entered, interrupting the opening prayer with a gigantic  _ BOOM!  _ that shook the sanctuary. And even though it wasn’t the first time she’d tripped on her way into the pews, it definitely the first time that she fell flat on her face and, thanks to her still mud-heavy skirt, slid with a loud squeak right up to the pew where Directress Ra’jah and Mother Nina stood. 

“Peace be with you, Vanjie.” A’keria, one of Vanessa’s best friends, snickered as she snuck back towards their usual pew, whispering quick apologies to other sisters before sliding into her usual place.

“Bless you, A’keria.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, cracking a smile as her other best friend, Silky, giggled at the retort from her place next to A’keria. 

“You alright? Didn’t hurt yourself?” A’keria whispered under her breath as the Mass resumed, the high-pitched tones of Sister Mary Koont wailing out the psalm providing the perfect cover for their conversation.

“I’m fine.” Vanessa whispered back, “Just,  _ shhhh. _ ”

She reddened as everyone turned to look at her, realizing at that moment that the psalm had already ended. 

Lord help her soul. 

She had hoped that after that incident, the rest of the Mass would go smoothly. She would sit and stand when she needed to, mean her prayers sincerely, memorize the readings, and pay attention to the homily. And it worked, up until the homily actually began, and Father Ross began his speech on being in the right place at the right time.

A’keria and Silky snickered so loudly that they had to pretend to be coughing in order not to attract dirty looks; Vanessa wasn’t so lucky, and so she spent the rest of the Mass feeling hot in her stiff uniform, only realizing how hard she was blushing during communion when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in Father Ross’ wafer bowl. 

When the Mass had finally ended, Vanessa thought everything was over, but no such luck--as Mother Nina and Directress Ra’jah walked by, a look in Directress Ra’jah’s eyes told Vanessa she’d better stay behind. Fortunately, all nuns in the convent were required to do an hour of Eucharistic Adoration, praying and meditating in front of the Eucharist, the body of Christ most people called Communion, per day; Vanessa figured that then would be the perfect time to do hers.

So what if she had ulterior motives? Prayer was prayer. 

She kneeled, crossed herself, gazed upon the altar, and tried her best to focus.

_ Thank You, Lord, for Your creation of orchards, convent grounds, brooks, frogs-- _

She frowned and pushed the intrusive thoughts out of her head.

_ Okay, Lord, let me start again. Thank You for Your sacrifice, Your Divine Mystery, how you bring people together, how you create people with poise and grace-- _

No, that wasn’t it either.

Her hour of adoration continued like that the entire time, her mind drifting off to the blonde woman in the brook before snapping back to Jesus every few moments. 

It was odd--usually, adoration was one of the things she got  _ right _ , a meditation she sank into easily and felt in her soul for the rest of the day. But there was something in her mind that kept tearing her away, kept bringing her back to that morning, back to the clearing and the water and the woman’s stiff posture and the concern layered in her eyes. 

She prayed for her, and for her daughter, too, though she wasn’t even really sure why. 

\--

Silky and A’keria listened to Vanessa recount the morning’s story without much surprise, only a few questions and laughs here and there. Silky especially seemed to love the part where Vanessa fell down, and asked her to retell it over and over again, while A’keria pursed her lips and arched her brow when Vanessa spent just a little too long describing the woman she’d met.

Vanessa didn’t say anything about how the woman kept appearing in her thoughts during adoration; somehow, she couldn’t find the words. Besides, she already knew what Silky and A’keria would think.

When she had first confessed to them that she was gay, the three of them and some other postulants were sitting alone in the rec room, giggling about the things they missed the most.

“I’m gonna have a hard time keeping away from boys!” One of the other postulants has lamented. “Right, Vanj? You seem like you’d be the same.”

Mother Nina already knew, had already told Vanessa that sexuality really didn’t matter in a place where everyone was celibate, and anyway, they were all there to worship and work for justice, nothing that required heterosexuality in the slightest. So despite Vanessa’s misgivings, despite her worries that the others might see her differently, she took a deep breath and disclosed to the others that she was gay.

“Birch, me too, the fudge.” Silky laughed, and then everyone rolled their eyes, and the conversation moved on just like that.

Still, she decided to keep that to herself, because didn’t want A’keria thinking it was some kind of love at first sight situation. It wasn’t—How could it be? Vanessa didn’t even know the woman’s name.

And yet, the woman must have meant  _ something _ to Vanessa, otherwise, why was she still thinking and talking about her?

“It means you in danger of gettin’ kicked out, is what.” A’keria rolled her eyes, and Vanessa realized that she had spoken out loud.

“What?” Vanessa frowned. “What do you mean, kicked out? Why would that happen?”

“Our final eval before becoming novice nuns  _ is _ comin’ up, Vanj.” Silky cut in. “I hate to break it to you, but this ain’t the first time you been less than perfect, an’ you know how Sister Ra’jah is.”

All three of them shuddered instinctively.

“Look, we’re not saying you definitely gonna fail, but at this point, with all the foolishness you pull…” A’keria shrugged, but Vanessa just scoffed, cutting her off as a wave of indignation rose in her chest. “It’s entirely possible that you won’t be allowed to become a novice.”

“Foolishness! Birch, what have I ever done that’s foolish?” She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer, only to deflate as Silky and A’keria began to rattle off a list far too easily.

“There was that time you accidentally sneezed in Sister Florence’s food so hard you dropped it in her lap--”

“--Or that time you tripped on your way out of Mass and said a whole mess of cuss words that nearly gave Sister Mary Patrick a heart attack--”

“--Or dropping the communion wine, that was a good one--”

“--Ooh, girl, remember when she fell asleep in class and started to snore?”

“Yes! Oh my gosh, I forgot about that! Remember how mad Postulant Directress got?” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Vanessa cut them off, unable to stand their peals of laughter anymore. “So I been strugglin’ a bit, so what? It ain’t like it’s on purpose!” She bit her lip, suddenly severe as the issues that A’keria and Silky were raising suddenly hit her for the first time.

She might not pass. All of her efforts, all of her sacrifices, all of her eagerness, might all be for nothing. No matter how bad she wanted this, she still might not pass.

What even happened to girls who didn’t pass postulancy? Did they repeat it? Go back down to aspirancy? Get transferred to another convent?

Or did they get blacklisted from ever entering vocations, or even just trying, ever again?

No, that couldn’t happen, it  _ wouldn’t _ happen, not after everything Vanessa had contributed. It couldn’t. Jesus had heard all of Vanessa’s prayers, all her desperation--there was no  _ way _ he’d let her get thrown out.

Was there?

But before Vanessa could keep fixating on the worst, there was a knock on the rec room door, and Mother Nina peeked her head in.

“Vanessa, may I see you in my office for a moment?” 

Shoot.

Vanessa swallowed hard, but nodded and followed Mother Nina out wordlessly, Silky and A’keria watching in silence behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! Come Hell or Full Circle chapter 1 to come soon, I'm already about halfway through it :)


	4. Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Vanessa caused a kerfuffle during Mass, and trouble was on the horizon. This chapter, the shitteth hitteth the faneth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you Holtz for beta-ing this <3
> 
> LAST CHAPTER WITH SUPER RELIGIOUS CONTENT FOLKS, I PROMISE LOL

“Reverend Mother, I swear, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to--”

“Sit down please, Vanessa.” Mother Nina sighed, gesturing to the chair across from her desk. Vanessa swallowed hard. 

She was no stranger to that chair or what it meant. Unlike the early days of her convent life, the chair across from Mother Nina’s desk was no longer a comfortable place to sit, something to anchor Vanessa while she talked about her feelings and her progress relating to God. No, recently, her relationship to that chair, Mother Nina’s desk, the entire  _ office _ had changed. It wasn’t a safe place anymore. Now, it was a place Vanessa got called into, instead of one she voluntarily rushed to talked to Nina in. Now, it was a place where she got read a list of things she’d done wrong, instead of one where she was praised for her strengths.

It was a place she went to when she was  _ not in trouble, Vanessa,  _ which somehow was the worst thing to hear--because she wasn’t just a bad nun, she was one that was so bad that instead of just punishing her or disciplining her, Mother Nina had to sit her down and  _ have a chat. _

Vanessa never used to hate their chats. She never used to dread them or come away from them feeling worthless.

But things felt different now.

Especially since lately, Postulant Directress Ra’jah always seemed to join them.

There was a certain satisfaction that Vanessa got from seeing Postulant Directress always having to stand during these meetings. A petty kind of vindication that never faded, as unbecoming as it probably was. Vanessa had always gotten the sense that Ra’jah hated her--she wasn’t exactly kind to any other postulants, or anyone else in the convent, for that matter, but she always seemed a little extra surly when dealing with Vanessa. Vanessa supposed she couldn’t blame her; Ra’jah was a woman who was incredibly devoted to justice, and to her, the best way to mould young nuns who would bring it upon the world was to instill strong, inflexible values through harsh, inflexible rules.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t harsh inflexibility that brought Vanessa to the convent, and it wasn’t what she intended to allow her to continue in it. Sure, she could have done what most of the other postulants did, kept her head down and pretended to agree with the Directress purely to get by, but that wasn’t the kind of person Vanessa was, nor was it who she wanted to become. So instead, she kept arguing, kept fighting, kept stubbornly staying the way she was. 

Not that she didn’t work on herself or her flaws; no, she was still very keen on that. But unlike Directress Ra’jah, Vanessa didn’t see spirit or enthusiasm as a flaw. She doesn’t see why she shouldn’t curl her hair from time to time, given it keeps the frizz down, or why she shouldn’t sing in the sanctuary when she’s alone, given that she does it during Mass. 

So what if it meant she had to take on extra chores, or a penitential fast, or get blamed for having sacred silence imposed on the whole group for an entire night? If it meant she could stay herself--her  _ real _ self, the self that felt God and fought for God and loved Him, too--then it was worth it.

So what if Directress Ra’jah didn’t see it that way? She was standing sandwiched in the back corner of Mother Nina’s office, and Vanessa was seated, waiting for her reprimand.

It was almost enough to make her fear dissipate. 

Almost. 

_ Look, we’re not saying you definitely gonna fail, but at this point, with all the foolishness you pull…  _ A’keria’s words rang in Vanessa’s ears, making her feel dizzy. 

What if this was her final warning?

Or worse, the final straw?

“Mother, I swear--” she started again, but again, Mother Nina cut her off, ignoring the indignant scoff from Directress Ra’jah behind them. 

“It’s alright Vanessa. You’re not in trouble.”

The more Vanessa heard that line, the more in trouble she felt.

Especially when Ra’jah was letting out an indignant snort behind her.

“Postulant Directress…” Mother Nina started, but rather than a sharp warning, her voice was soft, like she was trying to reason with her. That wasn’t not out of character for Mother Nina--Vanessa didn’t think she’d ever heard Mother Nina yell or snap at someone. Still, at least that would mean that she was  _ really _ not in trouble, that she wasn’t about to get reprimanded. 

She knew better by now, though, so she kept her mouth shut and tried not to cry.

“We know you don’t mean poorly, Vanessa. We know. You’re a good nun at heart, and you bring a lot to the convent…”

A spark of hope ignited in Vanessa’s chest, despite the fact that she knew she should know better, that she knew that there was always a  _ but  _ waiting around the corner.

“You got courage, I’ll give you that.” Ra’jah chimed in behind Vanessa. “What?” the woman scoffed, noticing Vanessa’s shocked expression. “I give credit where credit’s due. You always got good ideas, and you’re second to none in terms of understanding social justice and your enthusiasm for our outreach missions.” 

Vanessa couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, joy blossoming in her soul. To heck with  _ but _ ; Vanessa had  _ never  _ been praised like this by Ra’jah before, and she was going to enjoy it. 

“But…”

Then again, Jesus  _ did _ say that pleasure was temporary. 

“... We’re wondering about all the other aspects, the ones that you tend to struggle with. Do you know which ones we’re talking about?”

Vanessa suppressed a laugh. Of course she knew--she knew she was always late, that she always daydreamed, that she didn’t carry herself with the severe solemnity some of the sisters liked to see in their juniors. She knew she didn’t spell too well, and that she didn’t always finish her homework in time.

But she had courage, and good ideas, and a second-to-none understanding of social justice, in addition to enthusiasm. 

Surely, those counted for  _ something?  _

She realized with a jolt that Mother Nina was still talking, and snapped to attention just to see a certain light in the older woman’s eyes die a little, no doubt realizing that Vanessa hadn’t been listening.

“What did Reverend Mother just say?” Ra’jah sniffed, and all affection for her that Vanessa had just grown dried up on the spot.

“She said… She said that she’s... Worried… About how I behave, about whether or not I’m able to fit the demands and duties of a nun in addition to the qualities and intentions of one.” 

Both of the other women relaxed, and so did Vanessa, hoping the internal sigh she let out was subtle enough that Ra’jah and Mother Nina wouldn’t notice. 

Sometimes, it paid to hear the same lecture over and over again.

Still, that didn’t mean she didn’t make an effort for the rest of the reprimand, and so she steeled herself and forced herself to listen, forced herself to absorb every word.

She owed it to both Mother Nina and Ra’jah, for their willingness to repeat the same things over and over again until she got it.

\--

Vanessa started as she turned out of Mother Nina’s office, almost tripping over A’keria as she exited. 

“Shhh, shh!” Silky clamped a hand over Vanessa’s mouth before she could cry out, pressing a finger to her own lips. “We ain’t supposed to be here, you know that.”

“That was a long one, huh?” A’keria watched as Vanessa straightened up. “You alright?”

Vanessa shrugged. She wasn’t, not really, and she knew that both Silky and A’keria already knew that, so what would be the point of saying it out loud? Besides, she couldn’t let them think she was actually as upset as she was--that would make them pity her, and she didn’t want that.

What she wanted was to be able to please everyone, but she already knew that was off the table, so what was the point of making them sad about it?

“Good.” A’keria nodded, and then before Vanessa could ask what they were going to do next, she was being whirled around and having her ear pressed to the door. 

_ “I just don’t think she’s an asset to the abbey.”  _ Ra’jah’s voice was clear and distinct, her words making Vanessa’s breath catch in her throat.

_ “She tries her best…” _

_ “And? She whistles, she climbs trees, she’s always late--” _

_ “But her penitence is real. And she makes us laugh, which in these times is incredibly valuable.” _

Vanessa’s heart lifted a little, hope suddenly breaking through and spurring her on to keep listening.

She was valuable. She would incredibly valuable.

Maybe she’d be okay after all?

But the thought had come too soon, and her bubble burst almost as fast as it had grown.

_ “Well, then, how do we solve a problem like her? How do we make her listen, make her understand? We’ve given here this lecture so many times…” _

_ “I know. And I know you’re frustrated, Sister. I just… She has so much to give, Sister, and effortless joy like hers is easier to crush than you’d think. I don’t want to give up on her just yet.” _

_ “I don’t think of it as giving up, Reverend Mother. I think of it as letting free.” _

Vanessa didn’t listen to what Mother Nina had to say in response, whether it was agreement or another argument in her favour. 

Instead, she ran. A’keria and Silky didn’t chase after her; it would get them in trouble, and they could always check in with her later. Either way, Vanessa was grateful for it. She didn’t need people hounding her, asking her questions, asking if she was okay or what was going through her mind, what she was going to do; she didn’t know the answer to any of those questions.

Fridges. Her heart pounded and mind spun as she ran, ran through the convent, down the halls, over the staircases, past the dormitory. She ran to the one place she could think of, the one person she knew would know all the answers that she didn’t have at the moment. 

_ Please,  _ she thinks as she collapses at the statue’s feet,  _ Please, Mary, what the fuck am I going to do? _

The statue of the Virgin Mary before her stays silent, Her eyes turned down at Vanessa, their brown rings somehow as kind as her wooden hands, pressed together in prayer over her heart, seemed to be soft.

“Please.” Vanessa’s plea came out as a whisper, one that was dangerously close to a sob.

_ Let yourself cry, my child.  _

Maybe it was her own thoughts, not Mother Mary’s; either way, she obeyed them, hiding her face in her hands.

“Please, M-mother Mary, p-please. I can’t--I can’t leave, please, please save me, please let me stay. I just…” she stopped, the words suddenly drying up in her throat.

She knew what she wanted--why couldn’t she say it out loud?

Or maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

_ Please, Mother Mary. I just want to help people. I just want to do God’s work to change people’s lives. Please let me do that. _

She stays kneeling for a while, repeating the prayer in her head, occasionally letting her request turn to thanks turn to formalized prayers, anything that comes to her. If she hadn’t been so desperate, the irony probably would have struck her as funny--there she was, relying on her spontaneity to drive the sincerity of her prayers, when her spontaneity had been the thing that got her into trouble in the first place.

After a while, though, all of her prayers started to blend, and staying in the convent became a background thought.

For some reason, though, she couldn’t bring herself to leave--not yet.

She had something else she had to get off of her chest first.

_ Please, Mother Mary… I don’t know why, or how, but I need you to watch over that woman in the brook. Her and her daughter and whoever else she has at home. _

_ Amen. _

When she came out of the sanctuary, Silky and A’keria were waiting again, but this time, they didn’t ask for any explanation, only nodded and took Vanessa in their arms.

“This ain’t gonna be goodbye, guys. I promise.” Vanessa smiled as they separated, determined not to cry anymore, and even thought she could sense the hesitation in her friends, they nodded, playing along like she needed them to.

But the brave face could only last so long, and so after lights out, when all the nuns had retreated to their rooms for private prayers and a good night’s sleep, Vanessa laid flat on her bed, hands folded in prayer, and cried.

She dreamt of chasing frogs in the brook that night, and woke up feeling an almost hazy sense of peace.


	5. Climb Ev'ry Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Vanessa was scolded for her performance as a postulant and learned that she might not pass to the next stage of becoming a nun. 
> 
> This chapter, Vanessa sees a familiar face, and then is given an important choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE WITH THIS CHAPTER, guys!!!! I hope y'all enjoy it. I can't promise updates will come faster--I still have Come Hell or Full Circle and the librarian con fic, plus a few other prompts--but I hope it's worth it!!
> 
> Thank you 3000 to Holtz for beta-ing, and to her gf (hi) for encouraging me and assuring me that people haven't forgotten about this fic and want to see it updated. YOU ARE TRULY THE BEST! <3 <3 <3

Three days had passed since Vanessa’s meeting with Mother Nina, and things settled into some semblance of peace again. Classes resumed as usual, Masses were attended, chores were completed and prayers were whispered into the quiet of the convent’s chapel. No one talked about Vanessa’s latest mishap, or mentioned that postulant reviews were coming up.

But that didn’t mean that Vanessa had stopped thinking about it. On the contrary, it was almost as if Vanessa’s mind was overtaken by catastrophic thoughts; about whether her prayers were enough, whether she would pass, whether becoming a model citizen-nun would be enough at this point. The possibility of failure seemed to wait for Vanessa at every corner, and every single move she made felt dangerous, like it would either make or break her career. Still, life went on, and so Vanessa surrendered to the fact that all she could do was go with it.

She was doing just that, walking from the postulant classroom over to the vegetable garden where she’d be doing her afternoon chores, when suddenly, life threw her something new. Something blonde, green-eyed and proper, sitting on the bench outside of Mother Nina’s office.

So maybe this woman wasn’t so new--still, having her in the convent was unexpected, and like almost all unexpected things, Vanessa couldn’t help but gravitate towards her.

“Hey!” Vanessa jogs up to the woman, smiling and waving, but her pace slows when the woman jumps a little, turning to her with confusion in her eyes.

She doesn’t remember me. Vanessa cringes, a sinking feeling of disappointment beginning to weigh down her chest. Of course the woman wouldn’t remember her; it had been three days, and they’d met in a split second, not even introducing themselves. Still, it stung--that split second, the feeling of the woman’s hands on her waist and the look in her eyes, had stuck in Vanessa’s mind for days. Surely, the woman could remember something of Vanessa in turn?  
“Sorry, um… Do I know you?” 

Apparently not.

“Oh, sorry!” Vanessa laughed, “I don’t think we actually introduced ourselves. A few days ago, I almost tripped and fell on the convent grounds--you saved me.” she smiled warmly, excitement blooming in her chest when she saw what just might have been a light switch on in the other woman’s eyes. 

“I’m Vanessa.” she continued, extending a hand. “I’m one of the postulants here.”

“Nice to meet you, Vanessa.” the woman smiled, taking Vanessa’s hand in a warm, firm grip. “I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes.” 

Brooke Lynn Hytes. It was a pretty name, one that Vanessa repeated in her head as Brooke continued to speak. 

“I’m here to see Nina, actually. Um--Mother Nina. She’s just Nina to me.” Brooke laughs nervously, rocking back on her heels a little.

“Oh, you looking to volunteer with us or something?” The thought of working alongside Brooke, handing out pamphlets with her and serving children orphaned by war and petitioning to get legal help for refugees, was exciting, somehow, something she both pictured vividly yet was afraid to, lest the dream not come true. 

“I’m just here to see Nina. Just visiting.” Brooke shook her head, and just like that, the fantasies building up in Vanessa’s head deflated again. 

Darnit. 

Well, at least Brooke was here, and if the sudden embarrassed look painting itself across her face indicated anything, it was for more of a reason than ‘just visiting.’ 

Gossip was a sin; Vanessa knew that. Nosiness was a sin, Vanessa knew that too. But she also knew that just making conversation, just chatting with someone who she happened to have met before, who she happened to want to get to know better, was alright in God’s books. So what was the harm in asking?

“You a friend of hers or something?”

“Or something.” Brooke shrugged. “We met a long time ago.” Was it just Vanessa, or did Brooke seem stiff when she said it?

“Oh, nice! Before your daughter?” call her petty, but Vanessa couldn’t resist--she wanted to know how old that kid was, judge how unacceptable it had been for her to just stare at her like that. But she realized with a jolt that the question had backfired--Brooke really was stiff now, her whole body becoming rigid and eyes becoming lost for a second before she snapped back to attention.

“We were both much younger then.” Brooke replied tersely between pursed lips, frowning deeply and flushing scarlet.

“Oh.” better not push it; she could tell that Brooke was rapidly becoming upset, and she didn’t want that--not when the woman had been so kind to her before, and certainly not now that Vanessa knew she was friends with Nina. No, that would certainly be a bad career decision. So instead, she excused herself, reasoning that she was late for her gardening duty, anyway.

“Say hi to Mother Nina for me!” she kicked herself inwardly as she tossed the line over her shoulder, cringing when she realized how stupid it sounded. Say hi to Mother Nina. As if she didn’t do that enough every day, even when saying hi meant getting another lecture. 

Honestly.

Still, even after an hour of weeding endless tomato plots, she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Brooke was seeing Nina for, or if she was okay. 

\--

Another day, another meeting in Nina’s office. Vanessa tried her best to stay gracious, tried her best to be humble and hopeful, but she couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in her chest as she walked over to Nina’s office. She should have bore it; she should have kept it quiet. She should have refused to let it bother her as she walked through the hallway, racking her brain for what she could possibly have done this time. But she couldn’t, and so her heart continued to sink, like it had for weeks.

The thing was, one’s heart could only ever sink so low before it hit rock bottom. And for Vanessa, that rock bottom was a pit full of anger.

She was doing everything she could. She was doing everything right. The last few days, she’d been a model citizen--she’d participated appropriately in all her lessons, completed her duties so well that even Ra’jah had praised her, although the nun looked like it might kill her to do so. She had prayed diligently, been on time for Mass, and had done it all genuinely. Not just to pass, not just to be noticed or have her efforts praised, but because the last ‘little chat’ she’d had with Nina had lit a fire under her ass. 

The way I’ve been acting has been of no use to God. she remembered saying it with a shaking voice, her face burning with shame despite the fact that she had been hidden behind the opaque veneer of a confessional screen. I’m going to change.

She had meant it with all her heart, she really had. And as far as she was concerned, she’d made good on that promise, to a highly effective degree.

So why the fuck wasn’t it paying off?

“God fucking dammit.” she wiped a hot tear away from her eyes, still too frustrated and angry to care about the words that had just come out of her mouth. 

Why the fuck didn’t they want her? Why the fuck did they hate her? What possible sin had she committed that she was too stupid to see? 

Why couldn’t she do anything right?

No. It wasn’t her fault--it was everyone else. A bunch of stuck-up, self-righteous bitches who thought they knew and served God better than she did. Who hated her and came for her just because she was a little different. Hell, God had never actually said anything about half the things Ra’jah told Vanessa and the other postulants about conduct. So how dare they pretend with such absolute certainty that their opinions were the absolute truth?

Well, she was done being meek and modest. Done taking it lying down. No, this time, she’d give Nina and the others a piece of her mind--

“Vanessa?” Nina peered at Vanessa from her office door, a concerned frown painted on her face, and suddenly, all of Vanessa’s burning anger dried up into embarrassment and shame. “You okay?”

“Yea--Yes, Reverend Mother.” Vanessa breathed out shakily, wiping her eyes and cursing herself for just how wet the corners of her sleeves came back. “I’m fine. Just--just a bit frustrated, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” Nina’s voice was soft and remorseful, but she said nothing else, only gestured for Vanessa to follow her inside her office.

Vanessa took another deep breath, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might throw up, and stepped through the door.

\--

“You want… You want me. To be a nanny.” Vanessa repeated, still not quite believing what she’d just heard. If she’d just heard it; it couldn’t be, that couldn’t have been what Nina had called her in for, it was too out of the blue--

“Yes.” Nina repeated, nodding resolutely. “I want you to be a nanny.”

“So are you like, kicking me out, or--”

“No, no, no.” Nina shook her head, then sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “Look, Vanessa, this isn’t--this isn’t a punishment or a sign that you’ve failed. That’s not why I’m offering you this position.” 

Offering. So it wasn’t an order. Granted, Vanessa wasn’t sure that made things any better, but at the very least, it meant that there was a chance she could reject it without being kicked to the curb.

Vanessa breathed out a deep, relieved sigh, any remnant buzz of anger or tension finally filtering out of her body. 

“So why me?” It was a fair question--if the offer really was just because Nina thought Vanessa would be the best for the job, then what was it that singled her out for it?

“Because of the nature of your faith.” 

Vanessa looked up with surprise, half expecting Nina to take it back, to explain that it wasn’t a good thing. But Nina looked absolutely serious, earnest, even. 

“Your faith is unique, Vanessa. The kind of faith we’ve frankly lost here. You see things with childlike eyes, and always want to take on challenges. You still have connections to your roots, and you’re fiercely passionate about it. And that kind of stuff makes you amazing at evangelism and service. You have the kind of faith that’s joyful and worth sharing. The kind that can’t be contained, and that’s a good thing.

“The person looking for a nanny wants someone gentle, kind, and passionate. She wants someone who can teach her kids traditional values while still teaching the values of justice and standing up for yourself. She wants someone who can get through to her kids--they’ve been trouble in the past, don’t respond well to authority keeping them down. So I think it’s best to send someone who won’t expect them to be kept down. Someone who approaches all those values differently. And I think you’re perfect for the job--because you can set a great example for them and get through to them. Heck, you’ve stayed true to yourself and to what you think God wants from you no matter how the sisters here have tried to stamp those qualities out--who better to teach children those same things?

“Look,” Nina softened again, her voice becoming gentle. “I think the greatest injustice the Church does is teaching people that holy vocations are somehow better than everything else. But they’re not. Because we can only do so much--only what the Church tells us we can do. But God--well, God is outside of the Church. God is bigger than the Church. And if anyone can match all that God has to offer outside of what the Church captures, it’s you.”

It took a few moments for Vanessa to process everything that was being said, everything those words truly meant. And when it did finally sink in, she couldn’t help it--tears began to prickle at the corner of her eyes, her chest tight and yet expanding all at once with a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Pride, and vindication, and the invaluable feeling of finally being seen. 

She wasn’t in trouble. She wasn’t inferior. She was enough. More than enough, in fact. 

She was exactly what somebody needed. 

“So what do you say?” Nina asked, her eyes intent as she watched Vanessa wipe her eyes and take a few deep breaths. “Will you do it?”

Vanessa took another deep breath, her head spinning. Regardless of what had just been said, there was still so much to consider about the decision. What she would tell her friends and family. Whether or not she’d still be a nun. Whether she’d be happy, whether she could come back if she wasn’t. How much training she’d get. Whether she’d be paid a salary or not. Whether she was really equipped to deal with the actual caretaking aspect of a nanny’s job, as opposed to just the role model side of things. And before she could make a true decision, those things needed to be considered. 

So she said just that, and negotiations began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come Hell or Full Circle update coming next. Hope y'all enjoyed, and happy holidays!


	6. I Have Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Vanessa was extended an offer for a job that just might change her life. This chapter, Vanessa sets out to start her new career as a nanny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Athena for beta-ing and being the absolute sweetest!!!! And also to Holtz for encouraging me. I know it's been a while since I updated, and she was always the one telling me not to feel guilty for it (which I was sometimes fhdskj) and acknowledging how hard I was working.

The train station was crowded and noisy, people rushing about from platform to platform, sitting on benches surrounded by luggage and restless children, or buying food and travel supplies at one of the many stalls in the main station hall. It was almost disorienting; in comparison to the convent, where everything was orderly, quiet, each person going exactly where they needed to be without rush or chaos or dilly-dallying. At the convent, even when every sister on the grounds was gathered in the same place, there was plenty of room left over, empty space filled with echoes of footsteps, a slight breeze whistling through an open window, the musky smell of old wood and stone. Most strangely of all, though, was that at the convent, Vanessa’s postulant uniform was common-place, just a regular dress like any other. But in the train station, somehow, it was different; there, it seemed to be the most noticeable thing about her, something that caused some to smile, others to scowl, all of them part ways to give her more room, either because they respected her or were afraid of her. 

_ Why’s she dressed like that, mommy?  _ a little boy behind Vanessa asked, only to have his mother shush him right away. 

_ Because she’s going to be a woman of God one day. _

It made Vanessa’s heart sink a little even as her stomach rose into her throat. 

The truth is, she didn’t know whether she actually  _ was _ going to be a woman of God. She didn’t know anything at all about the future, let alone what she was right that second. And from the vague answer Nina had given her, really it seemed like the older woman didn’t, either.

_ You’re going to be… Not quite a postulant anymore, but not a layperson either,  _ Nina had shrugged.  _ Think of it as a kind of ministry, I guess. A trial period to see where you fit better. At the end of the day, labels are kind of arbitrary anyway, right? This is less about what you are, and more about what your purpose in God’s plan is. _

It was a cop-out, Vanessa knew that, but it was also an interesting proposition, one she couldn’t help but want to make sense of. So she had agreed, not because she was sure of what was happening, but because her instincts told her that maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to try to find out. 

That didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking, though. 

She plopped down into the seat in her compartment, staring intently out the window to avoid looking at the man staring intently at her from his place in the seat opposite her. It would be a half-day’s journey to her new employer’s house, which was plenty of time to think. 

“Going somewhere, sister?” 

Vanessa looked up in surprise at the man’s voice, head snapping in his direction. But he seemed unperturbed; he only smiled, his eyes sparkling with something Vanessa couldn’t quite make out the meaning of. 

“Um… Yeah.” she stared back at the man apprehensively, her heartbeat quickening. From her experiences during outreach and even just now on the train, she knew there were two ways this could go: either the man was a creep, or just wanted to talk.

Apparently, it was the latter.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sister.” the man softened suddenly, putting up his hands as if to surrender, show that he wasn’t a threat. “I just noticed your uniform and thought it was strange—I know your convent, I’ve seen nuns from it on the street, but I’ve never seen one of you travelling on a train elsewhere. Well, no one without a chaperone, at least. I was wondering why, that's all.”

Vanessa breathed out in relief. “I’m actually going to do some… special outreach.” It wasn’t a lie, necessarily—in a way, this  _ was _ outreach, considering the person who’d hired her had gone via the convent. And the man certainly seemed fascinated by the statement, his smile spreading even wider.

“Thought so.” he nodded. “You guys are good eggs. Always looking out for others. I think it’s great.”

Vanessa gave him a weak smile; if only he knew. “I dunno if I’d call me great.” she started, but the man just shook his head, cutting her off. 

“Please, sister, don’t be modest. I know you’re young, and probably haven’t gone out on your own before. But there’s a reason you were asked to, right? Nothing you can’t handle, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” 

The statement hit Vanessa square in the chest, both familiar and surreal.  _ God gives us nothing we can’t handle.  _ It was meant to be an encouragement, a reminder of one’s power and potential in the eyes of God. Sometimes, though, it felt like a taunt--like if she couldn’t handle it after all, she’d failed something, because she was supposed to be able to get through it. More pressure, more reminders that she had more than just herself to be responsible to. 

But now, looking at the man’s gentle eyes, the edge of softness in his smile, she felt her heart melt and the little affirmation sink in, plant a seed of support in her chest.

“I have a son like you, you know.” the man continued, his gaze ever kind, ever unwavering. “Well--sort of like you, I guess. He’s still a little shy of actually getting to the priesthood, even though he really wants it. He holds back, is the thing. Doesn’t believe in himself. Some people at the church told him that… well, let’s just say he’s not the kind of boy that they recognize. And he let it get him down. He’s still got a lot of work to do before he’ll let himself do what I know he can to break down those doors.”

“I think I’m having the opposite problem.” Vanessa snorted. “They ain’t tryin’ to keep me from gettin’ in, they tryna force me out.” 

“How do you mean?” the man frowned, and Vanessa’s heart stopped. If she admitted the whole story now--whatever the story actually was--well, who knew what he’d think. What he’d see in her. What he would or wouldn’t say, and whether any harsh words or disappointed silence would be worse. 

“If I succeed in this outreach, I probably ain’t gonna be goin’ back to the convent. An’ if I don’t, I don’t know if they gonna let me back in.”

“Ah.” the man nodded, and even though Vanessa still held her breath, still fe;t the anxiety of not knowing where a conversation was going, her heart didn't stop completely, because it didn’t feel like a judgmental acknowledgement. It didn’t really feel like anything at all, except for a nod and a noise and a man who was still listening.

And for now, that was enough.

“I just… I dunno.” she continued, because fuck it, why not? “I feel nervous, ‘cause I feel like every time I think I found a place I can fit in, I’m wrong. In school I loved learning, but I wasn’t smart enough to be with the intell--internlec--the nerdy kids, the one who got things done in a book sorta way instead of the way I just liked to get my hands dirty to learn. In the convent, I was a spitfire and they liked that at first, but then I ain’t learn how to calm down and they didn’t think they could contain me no more. They said I could come back if I needed to, but… I feel like I’ll probably need to, not ‘cause I wanna, but because I ain’t gonna fit in here, either. ‘Cause I’m a failure.” 

“You don’t seem like a failure to me.” the man got up, hesitated a little before Vanessa nodded, giving him permission to sit down next to her. “And you seem plenty smart. Like you know who you are and what you’re about, and know enough about yourself and the world to look at it realistically. 

“You haven’t found out where you fit yet, but that doesn’t mean there’s nowhere you do. The most impressive thing is, you keep opening the doors and walking through them anyway, no matter who gets sour-faced about it. You don’t have it all figured out, but who does? I’m older than you’d ever think, but really, I’m all over the place, too. Just absolutely everywhere. It’s okay, sister--float through life for a while. Make your mark. Because I know you’re the type who makes changes wherever she goes, even if she’s not appreciated enough to be able to stick around to see them.”

“Thanks.” Vanessa smiled weakly, and for some reason she couldn’t decipher, a sense of peace settled into her chest, like she believed everything the man was saying--because somehow, some way, she did. 

“There’s no such thing as someone who fits in everywhere. All those smart kids, all those nuns… They’ve felt the same way you have before. Probably still do. But if it helps, I think you’re the exact type of person I’d have wanted to watch over my son, when he was little.”

Wait.

“How did you--”

But then the PA chimed, a pleasant voice announcing the first stop, and the man got up, smiling one last time before heading towards the door of the compartment.

“My stop.”

“But--”

_ “Now arriving at Chapel Road. Chapel Road Station. Please make sure to collect all your belongings before exiting the train.” _

“Good luck, sister.” he gave a little wave, his eyes tender, if not seeming a little sad that he had to go already. “Have confidence--I know you’re worthy.” 

Like that, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but a warm, empty air and a sudden feeling that everything would be okay.

\--

Vanessa climbed up the hill towards the house in the distance, her jaw dropping just a little further with every step she took. The closer she got, the more of the house’s--no,  _ manor’s _ \--size she could actually see, the more massive it appeared. In fact, it wasn’t even just that it was huge--the house was also incredibly beautiful, so perfect and awe-striking that it was almost as if it were from a dream. The path leading up to the house’s porch was pristine, well-lined cobblestones clicking under Vanessa’s feet without kicking up a single speck of dust. The house’s grounds were beautiful, too--the grass was cut evenly, flowerbeds neatly arranged, and shrubs all clipped level with each other, not a branch out of place. There was a cascade of ivy creeping down the side of the house, popping out bright emerald against the white stucco walls, yet controlled enough to seem to know not to cover any of the sparkling windows. And when Vanessa reached the front porch, she came face to face with the house’s wide mahogany doors, carved with elaborate detailing and sparkling with a gold door-knocker and a gleaming, immaculately-polished handle. 

It was absolutely beautiful, and yet, when Vanessa took a breath, let everything sink fully, she realized that in a way, it was also…. Odd. Unsettling, even. Too orderly, too perfect, too good to be true. 

Not for the first time, Vanessa wondered what kind of person she was about to start working for, what they were like and what kind of values they stood for. Somehow, even though the sights around her should have been an answer, they weren’t. Not for certain, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed away her doubts and reached up for the door knocker, pounding it loudly just to make sure someone-- _ anyone _ \--in that castle could hear her. Her prayers were answered almost immediately, the door unlocking and swinging open and--

“Oh.” Brooke stood in the doorway, looking about as shocked as Vanessa felt. “You’re…”

“Vanessa.” Vanessa stifled the sinking disappointment in her chest at the thought that Brooke didn’t remember her, sticking out a hand instead. But Brooke just smiled a little, shook her head. 

“I remember.” she took Vanessa’s hand, shaking it firmly. “I was just surprised, is all.”

“Count me the same.” Vanessa laughed. “So you was the one who wanted a nanny from the convent?”

“I was.” Brooke nodded. “And you’re the one who Nina thought was fit for the job?”

“I am.” Vanessa straightened up proudly, despite the way her heart suddenly set to pounding for a reason she wasn’t quite sure of. “And you’ll see why pretty soon, I promise you that!”

Brooke smiled approvingly, gestured for Vanessa to come inside, and the minute she turned away to lead Vanessa on a tour of the house, the young postulant let out an internal groan so big she was almost afraid Brooke would hear. 

_ I promise you that! _

Way to sound cheesy, Vanessa. Just great. And what if she couldn’t deliver? What if Brooke never saw her strengths, never saw why Nina chose her for the job?

_ Have confidence, sister. You’re worthy.  _

She perked up as the man from the train’s voice floated in her mind, his face coming to her memory so vividly it might as well have been right in front of her. And just like that, that sense of peace, that everything would be okay, finally settled back into her chest.

The Lord worked in mysterious ways, that was for sure.

But maybe, just maybe, this  _ was _ something Vanessa could handle, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed <3


	7. Sixteen Going on Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER: Vanessa took a risk and set out for her new job as a nanny, only to find out that she'll be working for Brooke. 
> 
> THIS CHAPTER: Vanessa definitely bit off more than she can chew with the Hytes family, but she just might be up to the challenge the kids present to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAND WE'RE BACK!!!! Thank you for y'alls patience in the wait <3 I made a few changes to the events of the movie that this chapter is based on, but I hope you all love it nonetheless. And bonus points if you can spot the references I put in! ;) 
> 
> P.S. the Zackey in the story is Zackey Lime, a Toronto drag king who is legit amazing and I highly recommend you check out ASAP. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to Holtzmanns for beta-ing this chapter, Ilysm <3 <3

“... And that’s about everything there is to see.” Brooke brought Vanessa back into the foyer from the east hallway, smiling with satisfaction. “Any questions?” 

_ So many,  _ Vanessa thought, but she just shook her head, smiling faintly. They’d just finished a forty-five-minute long tour of the entire house, and Vanessa’s head was still spinning trying to recall all the details and directions, every room and what it was for and how to get in and when not to enter it. It almost made Vanessa feel like she was back at the convent, trying to make sense of the grounds on her very first day there and cataloguing every room and where it was. Chapel, cell, rec room, kitchen, so on. 

Here, though, the sheer amount of rooms blew the convent out of the water. oldest girl’s room, middle girls’ rooms, oldest boy’s room, living room, music room, kitchen, first bathroom, second bathroom, guest bathroom, guest rooms, servant quarters, servant kitchen, living room, mud room, dining room….the list went on and on endlessly, and it was dizzying, having to remember all the places and pathways in the house.

And then there were all the rules and routines, which were so numerous it was enough to absolutely shock Vanessa. Don’t knock on the master bedroom past 7 PM. Lights off at 9 PM. Take the children out for a brisk walk around the grounds on a set, groomed and paved path after they’ve woken up and had their uniforms inspected at 6 AM. Drill them in their studies before they go for tutoring, in order to make sure they’re in the right set of mind to pay attention. If the children step out of line, notify Brooke immediately in order for them to be punished. Dine with the family and provide a healthy sandwich lunch to the children at exactly 12 o’clock, but have breakfast during their tutoring hours. Never eat fish or drink coffee, the smells are too unpleasant. The only books the children can read are classic literature and the King James Bible, of which they’re to memorize a verse a day; if they don’t get it right, drill them until they do. Model perfect behaviour, posture, and language at all times. Absolutely no riding in cars; if the children want to go somewhere, they can bicycle with a chaperone. And don’t ever enter the art room unless it’s with Brooke’s supervision, and  _ never _ take in the youngest. 

No, this was worse than the convent. Definitely worse. Still, how could Vanessa say that? Brooke was looking at her with satisfaction and approval, but there was still a note of scrutinizing skepticism in her eyes that Vanessa hated to see. She couldn’t blame Brooke--Vanessa was about to be responsible for her children, after all--but it still hurt, somehow. Maybe because she was used to seeing it; used to not fitting in, used to people deciding she’d mess something up before even giving her a chance to try. It had been that way ever since she was little, after all. This was finally a fresh start--someone who didn’t know her or her reputation. Someone who had been told about how  _ good _ she was. Someone who was undecided about her, rather than already filled with images of Vanessa’s childhood and youth and many attempts at success that had ended in disaster.

She couldn’t break it. She just couldn’t. 

So instead, she changed the subject.

“I know the kids will still be in their lessons for a half hour, may I go and change?”

Brooke turned back to Vanessa taken aback, a faint note of surprise in her eyes, and for a minute, Vanessa doubted the question, wondering if she'd made a mistake. Brooke  _ did _ want a nun, after all; was changing out of her uniform coming across as being too comfortable too soon?

But then Brooke’s face smoothed over, and though she didn’t smile, she nodded. “Of course. It’s quite respectful of you to want to change into a fresh uniform after being in what I imagine was a very dirty train station and a crammed train all day.”

This time, it was Vanessa’s turn to be surprised at the way Brooke had brushed her off, the logic she’d strained to stretch towards. The expectations she was refusing to yield from, clearly spoken in the message she was sending. And Vanessa would be happy to play along, if it weren’t for one small problem.

“Actually, um…” Vanessa chewed her lip, watching as that surprised look crept back into Brooke’s eyes.

_ Come on, speak up, don’t make it worse. _

“This is the only convent uniform I brought, I thought it’d be better to dress casually other times. You know, so the kids feel easy with me.”

From the look in Brooke’s eyes, it was clear that her kids’ comfort wasn’t on her mind when she had requested a nun come to watch them, and she was more than likely feeling sore about it now. But just like before, the look disappeared almost as fast as it had come, and her face is—well, happy isn’t the word, but calm again.

“Of course. Please, go change.” 

Vanessa hightailed it out of there almost as soon as the words were out of Brooke’s mouth, and it was only when she was out of her new boss’s view that her heart started beating again.

It was okay; it would be okay. Maybe it was a shock for Brooke, but surely it wasn’t that big a deal—it wasn’t like she would be fired for wearing a regular dress, right?

As the clocks in the hallway ticked closer to Vanessa’s deadline while she weaved her way in and out, trying to find her room, she suddenly found it hard to be sure.

—

Vanessa hadn’t kept many “regular” clothes at the convent, but she liked to think that the ones she did have were pretty. They weren’t silk or satin, sure, but she’d sewn them herself, and that fact alone made them beautiful in her mind. There was something about the reds and blacks and floral prints she liked to wear that made Vanessa feel special, alive, almost like she was someone else. Not Vanessa the postulant, but Vanessa the dancer in fringe and lace. Vanessa the teacher in rough, stiff linens. Vanessa the girl at the beach in flowing, light cotton, or Vanessa the sleeping beauty in plaid button-up flannel.

It was a strange feeling, but nice at the moment, to be Vanessa the nanny, confident and motivated and ready to meet her tiny new bosses.

When she emerged from her room, though, that confidence dried up when she noticed Brooke looking sour-faced at her, then looked up at the clock.

Oh, fridge. She was two minutes late.

“That’s a… colourful outfit.” Brooke’s eyebrows rose practically to her hairline as she watched Vanessa rush down the stairs to meet her in the foyer, lifting up the yellow skirt of her dress and showing off the convent’s classic white tights in the process of trying not to fall.

“Yellow’s not my favourite, but I didn’t bring much.” Vanessa shrugged. “We, ah, donate most of our clothes to the poor when we enter the convent.” 

“You didn’t donate this?” Brooke frowned, and Vanessa felt her face grow hot as she looked down at the ground.

“The poor didn’t really… want it.” she admitted. “Oh, but I made the rest! Before I came, ‘cause I didn’t want to look too stiff, y’know? They’re kids, after all.” It was the truth, and it must have been satisfactory, because even though Brooke didn’t seem impressed by the answer, she didn’t say anything else.

“So…” Vanessa broke the awkward silence that had begun to force its way between them, “Are we going to meet the kids?” 

“The children will be right out.” Brooke said matter-of-factly. She turned away from Vanessa and dug in her skirt pocket, striking Vanessa’s curiosity until she saw what the blonde was pulling out. 

Brooke blew hard on her whistle, its high-pitched, tinny sound reverberating off the walls before it was followed by the sound of a teenage voice announcing, “ _ COMPANY, HUP! _ ”

Vanessa had to fight hard to keep her jaw from dropping as seven children decked out in identical gray uniforms came--no,  _ marched _ \--down the stairs, feet stomping in perfect unison before they lined up by what she assumed was age and stood tall and straight, then gave her and Brooke a quick, proud salute.

Jesus, Mary, and fudging Joseph. She’d become a nanny to a military cult.

“Children, this is your new nanny, Miss Mateo. She was a postulant at the local convent, and she came highly recommended by the reverend mother as someone who will provide you with a good example of traditional Catholic values and behaviour.”

_ Now  _ that’s  _ a laugh,  _ Vanessa thought, but kept her lip from twitching as Brooke continued.

“Introduce yourselves, please.” 

What happened next was no less than terrifying.

Brooke brought the whistle to her lips again and blew one long, particularly high-pitched note, only for a tall, teenage girl to respond by marching a step forward and coming to stand straight and tall, saluting rigidly. She didn’t introduce herself, only stepped back quickly before Brooke blew her whistle again, two short bursts. This time, a muscular boy stepped forward and saluted in the same way as his sister before stepping back.

“Are you--” Vanessa started as the realization of what Brooke was doing sunk in, but she was cut off by another whistle, three long, low tones. A girl who looked around the same age as the boy next to her stomps forward, repeated the movements of her siblings, then stepped back. 

“Excuse me, Brooke--”

“Captain Hytes,” Brooke corrected, and before Vanessa could so much as gawk at the sudden coldness, Brooke had turned away and resumed her ritual. Four blows in a long-short-long-short pattern came next, and another boy with a lean, fresh face stepped forward.

“Captain--”

“Please listen to their signals, you’ll need them.” Brooke shook her head sternly, but Vanessa had had enough. This time, when Brooke brought the whistle to her lips, Vanessa snatched it straight from her hand, sliding it into her own pocket before the blonde woman could grab it back.

“I don’t need a signal.” Vanessa protested stubbornly, her heart beating fast despite the firm, even tone she forced her voice to stay in. “I’ll use the kids’ names.”

“No, you won’t,” Brooke challenged, “You’ll use this whistle right here.” she handed a second whistle to Vanessa, who held onto it tightly, squeezing it so hard her knuckles went visibly white. “I won’t have shouting in my house.”

“But you’ll have a shrill, unignorable call that gives your poor nanny and everyone else a headache?”  _ Probably yourself too, maybe that’s why you’re always in such a bad mood _ , Vanessa thought, but she bit her tongue. In any case, Brooke didn’t argue this time, because she couldn’t—from the way her eyes twitched, she clearly knew that Vanessa had a point.

“Okay, kids.” Vanessa turned back to the line of children before Brooke got a chance to. “Start again, please, but can you tell me your names and ages this time? And for the love of Saint Peter, please don’t do a salute. We ain’t sailors.” 

Brooke’s eyes twitched again, and Vanessa had to bite down on her lip just to suppress a smile. 

“You heard Miss Mateo,” Brooke directed, “Step forward, names and ages.” she clapped her hands, and the routine began again.

“Monet, sixteen.” The first girl marched forward, her voice clear and confident.

“Landon, fourteen.” The second boy stepped forward next before marching back, not breaking his stride. 

“Kameron.” The third girl stepped forward. There was a beat, Brooke opening her mouth to say something, but Vanessa cut her off, putting out an arm to signal for her to hold back.

“No, you’re not.” Vanessa shook her head, but smiled nonetheless. “I see your sister looking all shocked at you. Tell me your real name and age.”

“I’m Kameron,” A red-headed girl, the one who had cast not-Kameron a dirty look, spoke up, “I’m ten. And I like you, you’re smart.”

“So’s your sister.” Vanessa winked, and the first girl blushed.

“Asia, thirteen.” She muttered, and Vanessa was almost glad that in her embarrassment, Asia didn’t march.

“Zackey, eleven.” A fresh-faced boy stepped forward next, resuming the marching orders. 

“You already know me.” Kameron shrugged, and this time, Brooke only sighed, a little bit defeated. 

“Crystal.” A small girl with curly hair stepped forward next, “I’ll be seven on Tuesday.” 

There was another pause before Crystal nudged the last girl in line, a small, shy little girl who held a frog in her hands.

“I’m Plastique, I’m five, and this is Bertha.” 

“It’s nice to meet you all.” Vanessa smiled. “I’m Vanessa.”

The children looked at her, surprised, and Vanessa’s heart sank as she realized they’d probably never had an adult invite them to use their first name before. 

“Yes, well, now that the introductions are finished, I have work to do.” Brooke nodded curtly, the tension breaking in the room as she began to walk away. But before she could disappear out of sight, a high-pitched whistle caused her to jump.

“You haven’t shown me your signal yet,  _ Captain _ .” Vanessa batted her eyelashes innocently as Brooke whipped around angrily to glare at her. The blonde reddened, but ignored the bait, instead turning right back around and continuing to retreat from the hall.

It was incredibly satisfying to note that Brooke couldn’t hide the furious stomp with which she traveled as she went. 

“Alright, see y’all later.” Vanessa shrugged, “I think it’s leisure time for you anyway.” 

“You’re not going to lead an activity?” Kameron frowned, but Vanessa just shook her head. 

“Nah. You guys can go play.” 

It hurt Vanessa’s heart to see how the children hesitated, but they marched away at last, and Vanessa was left alone to think about what she’d gotten herself into.

\--

The first place Vanessa went after seeing the children off was the bathroom. She let the water in the sink run until it was freezing, the cold stream making her fingers red the minute it hit her skin. But she could barely feel it; could barely feel anything. It wasn’t until she’d bent down and splashed the water in her face, gasped for air and wiped the droplets from her eyes, that she truly grasped what she was dealing with, why she had been sent here.

She was in Hell; she was in a nightmare. A place where no one like her was supposed to be able to thrive. Probably  _ could _ survive. And Nina had known Brooke for ages--she probably knew her parenting style. So why would she send Vanessa all people to live with seven little soldiers and their cold, overly-strict, barely-motherly mother?

She was out of her depth, completely in over her head. These kids were nothing like she had been when she was growing up; Hell, they weren’t like any kids Vanessa had ever met in her entire life. They weren’t kids at all; just tin sailors, robots following their mother’s commands. 

She closed her eyes, leaned against the sink and breathed in deeply. No; she couldn’t get this overwhelmed this fast. She had to think about her surroundings, break it down and tackle it like Nina and that man on the train and said she was capable of doing. There was hope; the mischief in Kam and Asia’s shenanigans. Plastique holding Bertha and forgetting to step back. Crystal announcing when her birthday was. The small chuckle she could swear she had heard from Landon when she’d sassed back at Brooke. The way the children walked hesitantly, but quickly out of the foyer when she’d told them to go play, as if they couldn’t wait but were afraid she’d take it back.

She opened her eyes, stared herself straight in the face, watched as a glimmer of determination grew in her reflection’s eyes. She could do this; she  _ had _ to do this, whether Brooke liked her or not.

She opened the bathroom door and charged towards her room, ready to spend some time there in quiet thought, maybe get changed into something a little nicer for dinner. Maybe dance like no one was watching, just like she used to in her cell at the convent on days she needed to loosen up.

She stopped dead in her tracks, though, when she saw the door to her room. 

_ “Shhh!”  _ she heard giggles from around the corner, but refused to acknowledge them; she didn’t look at all, didn’t change her face from the passive, relaxed smile that had been on it before. In fact, she didn’t blink at all. Only opened the door and walked into the room, bypassing the large, dripping bright-red pentagram painted on her door. 

\--

“ _ ALL OF YOU OUT HERE, NOW!”  _

Vanessa hurried out of her room with a pounding heart, her breath already catching in her throat. As soon as she swung open the door, though, she was met with a furious, red-faced Brooke, who she could tell was foaming at the mouth to yell at someone for what she had found on the door.

“Who drew this?” Brooke hissed as the children rushed out of their room, lining up by age and standing at attention. But barely a second passed before the fear in the children’s wide eyes turned to shock, then to relief.

“I did.” Vanessa looked back at the red rose she’d painted the door over with, courtesy of the paints the butler, Mr Lurchenstein, had lent her ( _ “your methods certainly are unorthodox, Miss Mateo, but sure, take what you need.” _ ). The pentagram was completely hidden behind the flower’s red hue, the black lines outlining its petals taking care of any stray marks or drips she hadn’t been able to cover up. “I wanted to make a mark so that the children could remember where to find me.”

“You couldn’t put up a temporary sign?” Brooke snarled, but Vanessa refused to crack, only shook her head as she turned back to look at the lined-up little devils still staring at her in surprise. 

“It wouldn’t speak to who I am as well as this would. Especially since a permanent reminder certainly couldn’t help.” Vanessa winked, and thank God Brooke was still so distracted being angry at her, because the way Landon and Crystal especially crumpled at the words would have been a dead giveaway otherwise.

“This isn’t your property!” Brooke spat, “You can’t just ruin things because you want to express yourself! I won’t--I can’t-- _ Miss Mateo, you will fix this right now, or I swear to the Lord--” _

“Captain!” Vanessa gasped, cutting the blonde off at the pass as she feigned shock, “Please don’t tell me that a good Catholic such as yourself is taking the good Lord’s name in vain? After you’ve chastised your children for not following the holy example our Saviour has set for us?” 

“I--Well--” Brooke sputtered, deflating a bit, her tone lowering as she realized what she’d just said, what she’d been called out on. Once again, Vanessa had caught Brooke in her own trap, and once again, she couldn’t escape. 

“Now, I understand that this is your door, and I’ve done a disrespectful thing by painting it,” Vanessa acquiesced, “But I really do think that becoming this enraged is teaching an unholy reverence of property that a Catholic certainly shouldn’t be espos--expos--trying to model to her children. After all, it’s not exactly unsightly, is it?”

“No, it’s pretty!” Zackey cut in, trembling a bit when Vanessa and Brooke turned to look at him in surprise.

“Me too.” Monet nodded eagerly, “It really does say exactly who Vanessa is.”

“Completely!” Landon and Asia agreed in unison. “And you know how much mama loved--”

“That’s enough.” Brooke’s face stoned over again quickly, the ride from anger to defeat to some unreadable expression practically giving Vanessa whiplash. She kept her observation quiet, though; from the way Brooke’s eyes had taken up yet another wall of defensiveness, Vanessa could tell that she didn’t want anyone to notice, or at least, to say that they had.

“Alright, Miss Mateo,” Brooke sighed, turning back to Vanessa, “Have it your way. The painting can stay. But before you do any other…  _ modifications _ , you will come to me for approval first, do you understand?”

“Absolutely.” Vanessa smiled, and Brooke only nodded before turning on her heels and stomping away, leaving Vanessa and the others to breathe out a sigh of relief. The temporary peace erupted as quickly as it came, though, when the kids looked back up at Vanessa, their eyes narrowing.

“Just because you covered for us doesn’t mean we like you.” Asia warned, but Vanessa just shrugged.

“I didn’t say it did.”

\--

After another brief stare-down, Vanessa led the children into the kitchen for their mid-afternoon snack, peeking into the fridge to see what the cook had left and immediately recoiling. 

Raw broccoli.  _ Yuck _ .

“Y’all want something other than these dry little trees?” Vanessa dangled one of the stalks from her fingers, wrinkling her face, and was relieved when a couple of the children laughed, all of them nodding eagerly. It was a little glimmer of hope amidst everything, seeing how they had reacted; the fastest way to the heart  _ was _ through the stomach, after all. Maybe she was finally earning some brownie points with her seven little monsters. 

Then she noticed the way the kids were looking at each other, and that hope dried right back up.

“Can we have peanut butter and jelly?” Plastique clapped her hands eagerly, bouncing a little in her seat. “That’s our absolute  _ favourite,  _ but mother--”

“Which one of you is allergic?” Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest, and Plastique’s bouncing stopped dead in its tracks as her siblings’ jaws dropped open.

“I was a kid too, once.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I know all the tricks in the book.”

“It’s me.” Kam sniffed, her eyes cast down at the floor. “I’m the allergic one, so mother doesn’t let us have it.”

“Mhm.” Vanessa nodded, though she couldn’t help the smile that curled at the corners of her mouth. “So we not gonna do that, then. Any other suggestions?”

The children were silent, but Vanessa didn’t expect them to say anything, anyway; imagination was hard when people tried to stamp it out of you, she knew that. No matter; she already had an idea forming in her head. 

\--

“ _ Why  _ does this house smell like--”

“It’s broccoli.” Vanessa shrugged as Brooke stormed into the room, her nostrils flaring. “You  _ did _ say the kids should have broccoli.” 

“Yes, but not--”

“It was in the fridge.” Vanessa popped another cheese-coated stalk in her mouth, grinning when Brooke’s face took on a stricken look, as if Vanessa had just hit her in the face with a block of cheese. Which, in a way, she supposed she had.

“I said  _ no pungent foods _ \--”

“It was in the fridge.” Vanessa repeated, “I assumed that it would have passed your inspection if it was?”   


“Well, yes, but--”

“The Lord doesn’t approve of hypocrisy, Captain, and eating cheese that your children are not allowed to indulge in really wouldn’t fall in the category of fairness, would it?”

Brooke took a deep inhale, pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed out impatiently. “No, it doesn’t. I’ll throw the rest of it out.” 

“No need to.” Vanessa shook her head. “It’s already all finished, and now I’ll spray some freshener and the children can brush their teeth. Problem solved.”

Brooke could only stare in shock as Vanessa stood up and waved for the children to follow, all of them looking like deer in headlights as they walked past their speechless mother out into the hallway.

“Okay, that was cool, but it doesn’t mean we want you here.” Monet huffed under her breath, but Vanessa wasn’t bothered; she understood, after all, so why would she have tried to tell the kids not to feel upset that yet another nanny had arrived to put even more distance between themselves and their mother?

“I wouldn’t want me here, either.” Vanessa threw up her hands in mock-surrender, “But here I am.”

She didn’t bother looking back as she flounced off to the servants’ quarters, ready to get a full list of the children’s allergies and intolerances from the cook.

\--

Dinner in the Hytes household was at nineteen-hundred hours sharp. Brooke had made that very clear during her tour, and though throughout the day, her brood of goblins made a strong effort to confuse Vanessa by saying that it was at five o’clock, six o’clock, seven thirty, Vanessa had made  _ sure _ to double-check with the other staff that nineteen-hundred was correct. So sure, in fact, that she had written it on her arm in thick permanent marker. 

There was just one problem--Vanessa had no idea when nineteen-hundred hours actually  _ was _ , and she certainly wasn’t about to ask the demon squad for clarification. So instead, she tried to remember the twenty-four hour clock lessons from the seventh grade, wracking her brain to remember the trick she was taught, whether it was to subtract ten, eleven, or twelve hours. And then there was the matter of actually doing that math herself...

“You’re still here?” 

Vanessa looked up from her book to see Lurchenstein standing in the doorway of the servants’ quarters kitchen, looking aghast. Looking up at the clock, it blinked 6:55 PM, and suddenly, she realized her mistake.

“Nineteen-hundred hours isn’t eight?” she kept her voice calm despite the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks. She already knew the answer--if dinner was at eight, then the butler’s shock wouldn’t have been reasonable. But if it was at seven…

“And your dress is covered in paint, too…” Lurchenstein groaned, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “You need to change,  _ quickly! _ If you’re even a minute late, the captain…”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence; Vanessa was already booking it through the house in a frantic attempt to get to her room, praying to God she wouldn’t get lost on the way.

She arrived in the dining room at 7:05 PM, panting and gasping as she stared at a sea of very pleased faces and one enraged one. Brooke’s expression was so grim, her lips pursed together in such a thin, resolute line that Vanessa thought the captain might implode. She needed to say something, and needed to do it fast.

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa admitted breathlessly, her heart seizing as she spoke, “It’s my fault. I haven’t used the twenty-four hour clock in a very long time, and miscalculated. If it weren’t for Mr Lurchenstein, I would have missed it entirely. I should have double-checked, and that’s on me.”

It was strange--instead of making a snippy comment or taking her to task, Brooke relaxed a little. 

“I’m sorry for assuming you knew.” Brooke shook her head. “Thank you for being accountable. I don’t tolerate much imperfection, but not knowing isn’t quite the same…” 

So the captain  _ did _ have a heart. Thank God.

“It’s subtracting twelve.” Vanessa was unable to suppress a little smile as she began to take her seat, her heartbeat evening out and relief washing through her body. “I got it n-- _ Oh! _ ” 

She rocketed back up as her rear hit something soft, springy, something that jumped right back at her. 

“Miss Mateo?” Brooke shot her a questioning look, but Vanessa hardly heard her; she was too busy glancing out of the corner of her eye, watching as something fat and green bounced away…

“Rheumatism.” Vanessa coughed, taking her seat. 

“Right.” Brooke looked doubtful, but said nothing else. A double blessing. 

“So, shall I say grace?” Vanessa changed the subject before anything else could be said, before the rude brood had a chance to call Vanessa out on her lie--not that they would, really, because what could they say that wouldn’t give them away? In fact, Plastique and Crystal were already shrinking back a little, looking awfully guilty…

“Yes, please do.” Brooke confirmed, and as if on signal, every member of the Hytes family made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads in such perfect unison that for some reason, it once again took Vanessa by surprise. Still, the alarm quickly dried up, because even though she’d been at the house for only nine hours, she already knew that if she expected anything less than this, it was her fault. She’d made her bed, that was for sure.

But that didn’t mean she had to lie in it, not necessarily. Not without a fight.

“Actually, before we pray, I thought I’d say something.”

Immediately, every child’s head snapped up, their faces seized with terror. It was pretty satisfying, Vanessa had to admit, and it was tempting not to play to their fears, to snitch or to pretend she was going to. But that wouldn’t get her anywhere, she already knew that. She had to catch these flies with honey, or she could expect something much worse than a frog on her chair next time. 

“I wanted to thank all of you for making me feel so welcome here. All those precious games we played and gifts you gave me, knowing how scared and worried I must be, coming into a new place all on my own. How important it was for me to feel accepted and welcome—really, you guys have made me feel at home, and I can’t thank you enough. Now, shall we pray?”

Unfortunately, they never got to grace--because the kids had started sniffling, and then broken into tears.

“Don’t worry,” Vanessa shook her head at Brooke, who was looking around the table in confusion. “They’re just happy.”

They ate the rest of their dinner in relative silence, but towards the end, Vanessa couldn’t help but notice that the dirty looks from the kids had ceased, and every request to pass the salt or for more mashed potatoes was accompanied by a shy smile and a  _ please _ . And when they finally filed out of the dining room, children first and adults following after, Brooke’s eyes didn’t carry quite the hard, furious look that Vanessa had gotten used to seeing in them.

It was about an hour later, though, that Vanessa really knew that things were turning around in her favour. Vanessa had finished her prayers, finished laying staring at the ceiling without much but passing, overlapping thoughts rushing through her head, and had decided it was time to tuck in for the night. Even if it was only around nine o’clock, she was used to early bedtimes at the convent, and from the schedule Brooke had laid out, it seemed like this house would be no different. The house was already silent, too, everyone else having gone to bed and either fallen asleep or having been smart enough to keep their late-night shenanigans very quiet. 

Everyone, apparently, except for the oldest Hytes daughter, who Vanessa could see and hear out of the corner of her window scaling the wall to climb down and meet a very strapping young woman in a military uniform waiting for her on the ground below. 

Oh, this was too good  _ not _ to listen in on. 

“Are you sure your mom--”

“I’m sixteen, going on seventeen in a month,” Monet hissed, “And  _ you’re  _ almost eighteen, which means you’re basically an adult. I don’t care if she treats me like a kid. Mama never used to. So mother can grow up and realize I can take care of myself.”

Vanessa had to resist letting out a snort at that, but held back, moving a little closer to the window so she could hear better.

“I don’t like sneaking around--”

“Once you’re nineteen and I’m eighteen, we won’t have to. Anyway, I have this new nanny, she’s…she’s not like the others. She’s actually kind of…well, she’s pretty chill, not like mother at all. As long as she’s around, mother won’t assume I’m up to anything bad, and if she catches us, it’ll be Vanessa’s fault.”

Oh,  _ Hell _ no. Vanessa had half a mind to call out, pop her head out the window to let Monet and this other kid know who they were dealing with. But before she could, something stopped her--a tiny voice, sweet and scared, one that she wasn’t used to hearing from Monet.

“I--I love you, Monique. I wanna be with you. And I  _ know _ mother would approve of you, just…you’re in the military, and…you know how that’s a sore thing here. It’s too complicated. So if we have to sneak around for now…”

“I get it.” Monique sighs. “Well, at the very least, can we stay on the property? Your garden’s so big and so nice, and it’s a lot safer than going around at night. We can still spend time together, and I’ll be gone before your mom wakes up.” 

Vanessa sighed out, her heart growing warm at the confession, at how responsibly and gently this Monique had responded. It was cute, how vulnerable Monet was being, how Monique was so willing to meet her halfway. Heck, when Vanessa was that age, she certainly wasn’t that thoughtful, and definitely not nearly as careful of her parents or what other people thought as these two. She had always believed in kicking her way across boundaries, not tip-toeing around them, on making messes if she had to, not planning things out to avoid them.

Maybe, just maybe, the kids would be alright after all. 

“ _ Shit _ .” 

Vanessa’s head snapped up at Monique’s voice, the teen’s tone suddenly changing from gentle to fearful. 

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Vanessa had left her window open, and the two love-birds had spotted her. 

“Shit, is that your mom’s--”

“No, just the nanny. Maybe she’s asleep--”

Vanessa had two options. Pretend to be asleep, never mention it, keep Monet feeling like her secret was safe.

Or, she could pop her head out, flash a thumbs up or something, let Monet and Monique know that she was on their side.

Fridge it--she might as well take a chance and do the latter.

“I won’t tell.” Vanessa whispered, popping her head out just enough so that the girls could see her, hopefully hear her enough to put their minds at ease. From the way their eyes became wide as saucers, she guessed they could. 

“Seriously,” Vanessa crossed over her heart, making a crucifix, because that was how serious she was, how badly she wanted them to know she was telling the truth. “You seem like a lovely girl, Monique. Just…be careful, and don’t leave the property.”

The two teens didn’t waste any time--they scrambled away, huffing and hurrying and knotting their hands together. Good; they trusted her. 

Vanessa was about to close her window, go to bed for real, when the scuff of footsteps running back under her brought her back to look outside again.

“Um,” Monet looked at her feet, chewing her lip and shifting from foot to foot. “I just wanted to say--Thanks. And, um…I like you. You’re cool. And I’m gonna tell the others to stop messing with you, ‘cause…I think I want you to stay.” 

Vanessa felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart soaring as a grin spread over her face.

Monet wanted her to stay. She was going to stay. Finally,  _ finally, _ she’d done something right.

“Don’t worry about it.” Vanessa shook her head, forcing a relieved breath out with the words. “I want to stay, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! I'm hoping to post a one-shot I'm working on by the end of pride month, and will hopefully post the next chapter of Come Hell or Full Circle soon as well!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!! ^_^


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